


Isn't It Romantic

by shipwreckblue



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Tags Will Update By Chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 20:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipwreckblue/pseuds/shipwreckblue
Summary: Collection of prompt fills from a kiss meme on tumblr.Ch. 1- Angry/Awkward kiss, Martin/Tim





	Isn't It Romantic

“I just can’t understand it!”    
  
“Mm-hm,” Tim says around his sandwich, watching Martin pace the length of the research office with a kind of detached chagrin. He checks his phone. So far fifteen minutes of their lunch break have been occupied by Martin’s intense agitation, which following the assault of the Archives by the world’s most charming worm-infested corpse, has found a brand new target. The worm thing was, well, understandable, especially after Sasha had professed to a similar kind of run-in. This new fixation, however… 

“First I have to fend him off of work, practically, when he’s still got bloody puncture wounds in his face, still  _ limping around- _ It’s not like I had to force you to stay home! You have some sense!” Martin throws a hand up in Tim’s direction, who raises an eyebrow.    
  
“I’m flattered.”  _ And yet I’m not the one you’re fussing over,  _ he refrains from pointing out. Martin’s taste in men, to say the least, could use some refinement. Tim is ambivalent toward the idea of actually going out with Martin Blackwood; that level of rapt attention from a paramour isn’t necessarily Tim’s cup of tea, but he’s known Martin to be quite reservedly charming in an earnest sort of way, when he’s not battling the stress of supernatural siege. But the  _ point _ is that Tim is here, he’s available, and he looks after himself, which is a hell of a lot more than can be said about Jonathan Sims. 

Martin returns to pacing with renewed fervor. “Meanwhile it’s seeming more and more like he needs to be chained to the radiator or some like, before he’s going to voluntarily get any actual rest. I hardly think he eats unless someone reminds him, it’s just-” 

Tim rolls his eyes. “Frustrating? I think you might have said.”   
  
“It  _ is _ frustrating! I don’t see how-”   
  
Setting down his sandwich, Tim says as calmly as he can muster, “You know, Martin, some people simply don’t have their shit together.”    


“Yeah, well it just about kills me!”   
  
“Just about killed me for real, in fact.”    


“Christ.” To his credit Martin does stop, then, and turns stricken towards where Tim is leaning on the edge of a desk. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I- It drives me up the wall, that’s all.” 

“I  _ noticed _ ,” Tim says, trying not to sound too bitter.    
  
Martin frowns. “Well you did ask me what my problem was.” 

“I dunno, I  _ thought _ talking about it might help.” Tim sighs, stuffs his hands into his pockets in a loose shrug. “Instead you’re, you know,  _ exponentially _ ramped up.” 

Martin hunches his shoulders, sheepish and disgruntled, digging his nails into his palms. “I don’t know what would help! You can’t tell me it’s easy to watch, just- Sometimes I want to just-! You know! Just-!”    
  
“For fuck’s sake, Martin, just  _ what? _ ” Tim demands, and not a split second later Martin has him by the front of his pullover, hauling him into a kiss. Martin is taller than him by a good few centimeters, and Tim  _ was _ leaning back, so he has to scramble for balance, catching hold of Martin’s elbow and a handful of his button-up shirt. The kiss is far too forceful for its unexpectedness, and there is an uncomfortable amount of teeth involved before Martin suddenly drops Tim’s jumper like the fabric has burned him, flushing all the way up to his hairline. “Oh, god,” he mumbles, trying to back away hastily. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was-” 

“Jesus Christ, hang on,” Tim snaps, letting go of Martin and finding his feet again. “God, Blackwood. Always zero to fucking sixty, you are!” 

Martin cringes. “I’m sorry, I know it was completely inappropriate, I didn’t-” 

“Well yeah, you could warn me next time,” Tim snorts. 

Martin babbles himself unintelligibly into silence, and then stares. “I. Sorry? I mean, sorry, but  _ sorry _ ? You-” 

Tim offers his palms out. “Give a guy a proper heads up and I imagine it’ll go better, I’m just saying.” 

He lets Martin consider this in silence for a moment, straightening his pullover and seating himself back on the desk with perhaps a little more ceremony than he might have otherwise. He notes, as he very purposefully returns his attention to his sandwich, that his mood has significantly improved. 

“So… Just to be clear,” Martin says, so long after Tim’s previous statement that he has to fight back a smile, “If I give you advance notice, that would be…”    
  
“Extremely preferable.” Tim nods. In his periphery, Martin’s flush appears to deepen, impossible as it seems. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d let me finish my sandwich. But after that I think we’ve still got about ten minutes of break left before we’re contractually obliged to be professional.” 

“Contractually obliged,” Martin parrots with a warbling laugh, and this time Tim doesn’t fight the smile. He may not, in fact, be ambivalent about getting that laugh out of Martin Blackwood.    


“Good point,” he says. “The sandwich can wait.”   
  
Martin coughs, gives him a tentative smile. “I’m... flattered.” 

Tim returns it. “You know, I really hope you are.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my content feel free to send me more prompts on my [TMA blog!](https://lostjonscave.tumblr.com/)


End file.
